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There's something to be said about broken items. Hearts, glass, dreams, robots.

There's something to be said about this sort of vintage-y electronica. Pop and minimal, and all repetition and these little bleeps of sound. This echoing, male and female vocals, balancing with dark undertones, unspoke accusations, plain words not with malice but with something like resignation? Acceptance?

And oh, when the boy rambles, in that faintly bitter tone of his, a continuous stream of words over these backing, pressuring da da da's (don't worry, it's less cute than it sounds), it seems the story is summed up with perfection.